Chapter 9: Outsider Enters the Cult, Panic Ensues

Morning began with birdsong.

Then came the yelling.

Then a bell. A real bell. One I had never heard rung before, which made me sit bolt upright and wonder if the mountains were being invaded by sky whales.

I flung open the doors to my courtyard just in time to see Elder Zhang power-walking toward me with the energy of a man who had very bad news and no desire to say it out loud.

“Patriarch,” he said, bowing too fast. “We have… a visitor.”

“Okay?”

“An outsider visitor.”

“…And that’s rare?”

“We haven’t had a visitor in years. Decades, even. Possibly since the Goose Incident.”

Pause.

“What’s the Goose Incident?”

“I am legally not allowed to explain.”

I arrived at the outer courtyard where a small group of disciples stood tense and armed, like they expected a full-scale invasion.

Standing in front of the gates, perfectly calm, was a woman in red robes embroidered with golden cranes. Early twenties, confident, smug. Her hair was tied into an elaborate crown braid, and she held a fan with more authority than most people hold weapons.

This was not a casual visitor.

I walked up, nodded politely, and said, “Let me guess. You’re from one of the sects that forgot we exist?”

She arched an eyebrow.

“And you must be the legendary Patriarch Shen Liang,” she said.

I gave her a look.

“If I’m a legend, it’s probably the kind where the ending gets worse every time you hear it.”

She introduced herself with a bow.

“I am Mu Yuyan, inner disciple of the Verdant Sword Sect. I bring greetings, and a request.”

Everyone behind me froze.

Verdant Sword Sect.

Even I remembered that name from one of the old scrolls. They were a mid-tier sect, far wealthier, far stronger, and had their own flying ship.

Meanwhile, the Shen Clan barely had functioning windows.

“A request?” I asked. “Let me guess: you want directions to a real clan?”

She smiled like a fox pretending to be polite. “Actually… I’ve come to observe the newly awakened Patriarch. There are rumors you possess rare potential.”

I stared at her.

“…Rumors?”

“Yes. They say you awoke after ten years, fully intact. That your aura is unreadable. That you cannot be measured by common cultivation tools.”

That last one was true.

Not because I was powerful.

Because the tools broke when they touched me.

“I am also here to assess the Shen Clan’s… current position,” she added delicately, glancing around.

Our cracked tiles and leaning gateposts were definitely not helping.

Elder Zhang twitched like he wanted to throw a blanket over the whole courtyard and scream “we’re under renovation.”

I smiled calmly. “Well. Consider yourself assessed. We’re still here. That’s more than some can say.”

She tilted her head. “Then may I request a short audience, Patriarch Shen?”

We took her to the ancestral meeting hall.

Which had been dusted hastily, but still smelled like old tea and crushed ego.

She sat opposite me, perfectly poised.

“I must say,” she said, “you’re not what I expected.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “You expected a half-mad mountain hermit glowing with sword intent.”

She fanned herself once. “Something like that.”

“And instead, you got me. Mild insomnia. No cultivation base. Surprisingly durable.”

Her smile cracked just a little. “You admit it openly?”

“Lying would just make the disappointment worse later.”

She leaned forward. “Then tell me, Patriarch… why did the great Shen Wuji make you the leader?”

That hit like a subtle knife.

My smile never faltered.

“Because I’m the last person anyone would expect. Which makes me the hardest to predict.”

There was a beat of silence.

She blinked. Just once.

Then nodded slowly, as if I’d just said something profound.

I hadn’t. I was mostly winging it and quoting spy movies.

But hey — if mysterious silence bought me time, I’d milk it for all it was worth.

After some polite nonsense and spiritual posturing, Mu Yuyan finally stood.

“I’ll take my leave now, Patriarch. I’ve seen enough.”

“Sure. I’ll be here. Trying not to bankrupt the clan further.”

She smiled. “You may surprise us all yet.”

And with that, she left — vanishing down the path like a dramatic wind-chime.

Once she was gone, Elder Zhang practically collapsed.

“That was a disciple of the Verdant Sword Sect!” he hissed. “Do you know how badly this could’ve gone?!”

“I didn’t die,” I pointed out.

“We had nothing prepared! We didn’t even give her tea!”

I blinked. “Wait. We forgot the tea ceremony?”

He looked pained. “We gave her cabbage. Cabbage!”

Later that night, I wrote in my journal:

Day 14 since awakening.

First outsider contact.

She thinks I’m deep and unmeasurable.

Reality: I cause artifacts to short-circuit.

Clan offered her cabbage. We are doomed.

Next step: figure out how to weaponize my lack of Qi.

I leaned back.

Outside, wind rustled the trees.

The stars were bright. The mountains quiet.

And for the first time, I realized — people out there were watching. Listening.

Waiting.

Whatever this body was… people would come for it.

I just had to survive long enough to fake being someone worth fearing.

[End of Chapter 9]